Empire of Shadows

Eric used to have money himself. Sometimes, when handling accounts, he would skim a little off the top, making a thousand or two each month without any problem.

Besides that, some people would proactively give him money, or he would use methods like dealing with Lance to extort money from some businessmen.

His uncle, or rather, his rumored father, was the mayor, so sometimes he could act recklessly.

Only by showing this recklessness could he live up to the rumors about his identity.

In fact, Attorney Olsen knew everything, but he acted as if he knew nothing, which fueled Eric's arrogance.

Perhaps he was uneasy at first, but when he discovered that Attorney Olsen didn't bother him after he did something bad, and neither did the mayor, he gradually became more and more arrogant under this indulgence.

The mayor didn't care about this. Attorney Olsen would report most situations to him in a timely manner. In his opinion, this little bit of money, including extortion, was insignificant. Sometimes, he even condoned Eric's behavior.

All of this allowed the rumors to spread even further, and many people seemed to know about these things.

However, although Eric had many ways to make money, he couldn't save it.

His spending habits were directly proportional to his income.

Those illegal immigrants at the docks who earned sixteen dollars a month could still save a few dollars each month while filling their stomachs and buying a set of clothes every few months.

Shouldn't those middle-class people with significantly higher incomes have saved tens or hundreds of thousands?

But the truth was that some of them were even burdened with a lot of debt!

The same was true for Eric; he couldn't save money either.

His high income gave him a feeling that wasn't quite real—

As long as I want to save money, I can save it quickly.

Plus, he had recently started pursuing Shayna, so he had even less money in his pocket. Otherwise, he wouldn't have extorted more than ten thousand dollars from Lance, which originally belonged to Lance as a bonus, to use for chasing girls.

Now his car had been ordered, but he didn't have enough money, and he was very annoyed.

While annoyed, he was also a little curious, "A few gambling tables can be worth the entire nightclub's income?"

He found it a bit unbelievable. He had never been involved in this kind of shady business before, and Attorney Olsen would basically take care of everything for him.

For example, helping him with all the legal documents. He only needed to sign, and then they would transfer the money to the account designated by Attorney Olsen.

This was the first time he had been involved in a project related to gang business.

Lance patiently explained, "Actually, its proportion is a bit higher than we imagined. Each gambling table can provide us with a minimum income of three to five hundred dollars per day."

"Four gambling tables are about a thousand dollars, and at least twenty to thirty thousand a month."

"The total income of our nightclub, added together, is not as high as the income brought by these four gambling tables."

"Now it's winter, and not many people come out to play. After summer comes, those gambling tables can bring us forty to fifty thousand or even more in income each month."

"Heller had been guarding this place before, just for those gambling tables."

"Now that our gambling tables have been removed, it would be considered good management if we can make ten thousand dollars in profit each month."

Last month's income of more than twenty thousand was because those gambling tables were still "paying taxes" to the Coda family at the time, and the taxes were not cheap, with half of them being taken away.

This was also the reason why they didn't reach an agreement later. Attorney Olsen wanted to reduce this "tax rate," but the Coda family didn't agree.

It was reasonable for them to disagree. If the mayor said today that he wanted to set up a few gambling tables without paying taxes, or only paying ten or twenty percent, then tomorrow a large number of gambling tables would be affiliated with the mayor, councilors, state government officials, or municipal officials.

If you collect taxes from them, it's like not giving them face.

But if you don't collect taxes from them, the Coda family will face new challenges.

How could they so easily break the situation that had stabilized over decades?

Attorney Olsen had discussed a lot with them, including some follow-up developments, but none of them could move the Coda family.

They not only didn't allow the casino to continue operating here, but also moved away all the gambling tables and equipment.

Although the mayor didn't show any obvious emotional changes after listening, Attorney Olsen and his secretary could feel that he was very unhappy!

So, not to mention the mayor, even if the governor came, he would have to ensure that the governor's gambling tables paid 50% of the taxes to the Coda family, unless the other party had a legal gambling table license.

But based on the considerations of the state government and Congress, they currently have no plans to continue issuing licenses in Goldport City, which is also related to the fact that the Coda family has already opened up a channel for transferring benefits to Congress.

If they agreed with this idea, their income would decrease. This is not an endless market; there are only so many gamblers.

Even if they opened a hundred more, Goldport City's gamblers and environment are only so big, and they would not get more income because of it. Instead, they would have an unpleasant relationship with the Coda family.

Goldport City will basically not have any more gambling table licenses issued. If you want to take root in this industry, you must listen to them.

Eric didn't know so many things behind the scenes. His brain wasn't really sharp enough. Sometimes, he didn't seem too stupid, simply because Attorney Olsen had done everything for him.

He only needed to be responsible for a process that even an idiot could do, so he didn't seem too stupid.

"Gambling tables really make so much money?"

Lance nodded, "They make a lot of money. If we put... six or eight gambling tables on the third floor, we could have several thousand dollars of income in one night."

"Young Master Eric, the people who come to nightclubs are not poor. Losing dozens or hundreds of dollars is within their acceptable range."

Eric's face flushed a little, and his body was heating up!

What he thought of was not just how much money he could make, but what he could do with this money.

If pursuing Shayna before was driven by his personal desires, then pursuing Shayna now was not just his own business, but also the dignity of his mayor uncle!

This battle cannot be lost.

It's just that the mayor's attitude was very subtle, not telling him whether there was a "limit," but just letting him do it and not lose face.

At this time, Eric had a feeling of "I have joined the big events of adults. I long to play an important role and let Mayor Uncle recognize my abilities."

While he was thinking about these things, Lance interrupted his thoughts with a smile that was not quite a smile, "But I think it's okay."

Eric looked up at him, his eyes momentarily confused, and then he frowned, "Why?"

The smiles on Lance's face had long disappeared, "Because this is Goldport City. Whether or not we can put up gambling tables depends on the Coda family. Even if it's..."

He stopped halfway through his words, but everyone could hear the meaning behind those words.

Even the mayor has to abide by this rule!

Eric slammed the table, his eyes becoming unkind, "Even if it's what?"

Lance laughed a few times at this time, "Even if we don't put up gambling tables, we can still make money."

"Although the competition is fierce now, we are the only nightclub in the Empire District. After deducting other expenses, we can still make seven or eight thousand dollars a month."

"Adding in the other bars, twenty thousand dollars a month is already a very good income."

Eric's breathing was slightly rapid. He knew that Lance didn't mean that.

His emotions towards the mayor were complicated, but more of it was respect, admiration, and fear.

Mayor Uncle had long played the role of a strict but benevolent father in his mind. He would not allow a nobody to look down on his Mayor Uncle so much!

"You don't mean that, Lance!" His reaction didn't seem slow, "You think we are outsiders. This is your Goldport City. Even if it's us, we have to abide by your rules, right?"

His emotions began to fluctuate, thinking about some of the situations when he was recently targeted. Those people didn't give him any face, even though that damn rumor was almost universally known!

They still didn't give him face, and instead ganged up to deal with him, just because he was an "outsider" and this was their local territory.

He thought of his mayor uncle, rarely confiding in him like an acquaintance, pouring out some worries, pouring out these ungrateful locals' difficulties, tests, and even injuries to him!

He had a surge of anger churning in his chest!

Lance made a look of appropriate concession. He leaned back as much as possible, raised his hands, but only raised them to his chest, shaking his palms outwards, "No, I don't mean that..."

But the expressions on his face, his eyes, and his movements mixed together, clearly saying "You damn well know it!"

Eric slammed the table hard and stood up with a bang. His chest heaved violently, and his eyes stared at Lance, "Put up the gambling tables now. When can we see the money?"

Lance continued to persuade him, "You'd better report your thoughts to Attorney Olsen or the mayor... Your ideas are not very mature, Young Master Eric."

"Ha?" He looked like he had heard something very funny, "I'm not mature?"

He looked back at the few lackeys who had also stood up. The lackeys all gave him an expression of "You're awesome," which gave him a little comfort.

He turned around and looked at Lance, "Do as I say."

Lance still didn't compromise, seemingly genuinely thinking of Eric, "This will cause trouble. You know the Coda family is one of the five major families in Goldport. If they don't allow it, we can't introduce gambling tables. That's the rule!"

Eric's anger reached MAX again!

He slammed his hands on the table, and the heavy wooden table even shook a little, "They're not the mayor!"

The two stared at each other, and Lance "retreated" from the eye contact. He shifted his gaze, seemingly softening his attitude and compromising under Eric's sharp eyes.

"Alright, Young Master Eric, but if the Mayor or Mr. Olsen asks…"

He spoke the answer Lance wanted to hear, "I'll take responsibility!"

Lance respected his decision, which calmed Eric down a little, but only a little. Now he needed to vent, and Red Heels was the best place to go.

He left directly with his lackeys, but he told Lance that in a week, he needed to see at least fifteen thousand in revenue.

Because the car he ordered needed to be transported from another city. The local cars were either already ordered or didn't have ivory white, so one needed to be shipped from the neighboring state.

After paying five thousand in cash, he would need to pay the remaining balance of fourteen thousand nine hundred and ninety-nine when the car arrived.

Lance stood by the window, watching Eric leave directly with a group of lackeys. He shook his head slightly. That idiot. He hoped his mayor, who was both a father and an uncle to him, wouldn't get high blood pressure from this.

In the evening, after closing, everyone left. Lance called some people and drove a truck directly to the Empire District Sub-bureau.

He had already spoken to Bureau Chief Blue. Bureau Chief Blue himself wouldn't come, but the police would assist them in dealing with these things.

Everyone was familiar with Lance and greeted him cordially upon meeting. They even took the gambling tables and equipment out of the evidence warehouse and piled them up separately outside the sub-bureau's warehouse.

A total of a dozen police officers were helping. Lance wrapped an envelope for them, filled with ten-dollar bills.

He knew one of the deputy chiefs here, who was considered Blue's assistant. He handed the envelope to him, "Divide this among everyone, twenty dollars each. I can't let you help for nothing."

"Go get something good to eat and a drink after your night shift, and take something home…"

The deputy chief squeezed the envelope, a smile on his face. He held the envelope in his hand, but said very hypocritical and polite words, "Mr. Lance, you're too kind. There's really no need for this. Police-civilian cooperation has always been our tradition."

Lance was never afraid of hypocritical people. He said with a smile, "Yes, this is just a small token of our appreciation, helping each other out."

"Then… on behalf of everyone, thank you for your generosity!"

Lance patted him on the arm, smiling without saying anything.

Soon, the gambling tables and equipment were loaded onto the truck and transported to the outside of Empire Nights Nightclub under the cover of night.

It was already almost four o'clock, and the streets were quiet.

And inside the nightclub, it was all their own people—Olsen had indeed arranged some manpower, but those people were mainly responsible for administrative work, not for guarding the night shift.

These hard, tiring jobs with little income were all done by Lance's people.

Soon, they rearranged the gambling tables and equipment properly and simply cleaned the controlled house, including the gambling tables and equipment.

Looking at the brand-new chips, although they weren't Coda family-specific chips, they still exuded an incomprehensible, charming luster.

"We're short on dealers."

Lance casually picked up a box of brand-new playing cards and dealt six hands of cards, a very ordinary blackjack, "Maurice is familiar with this. If you can find professional dealers, look for them. It doesn't matter if you can't."

"Blackjack doesn't have any tricks. The house always has the absolute advantage."

The house always draws last. It can make specific analyses based on the specific situation on the table. As long as it can tie, it can directly enter the next round.

Winning one or two is pure profit!

Lance did it a few times simply, and the young people who gathered around understood roughly. They tried it themselves, and it was indeed the case.

Gambling and smuggled alcohol were the two most profitable things in this era.

Seeing the green felt of the eight gambling tables and the various colored chips, seemingly emitting a fluorescent glow under the hanging lights, Lance skillfully shuffled a small stack of chips in his hand.

He seemed to be thinking about something, calculating something, but it wasn't so obvious.

After a while, he came back to his senses, "Let Maurice contact the local gambling dogs and tell them we're reopening."

Maurice had been hanging around various underground casinos in the Empire District since he was a child. He knew where to find these gambling dogs and knew which people were of a higher caliber.

After resolving this matter, only the last link in the entire plan remained to be realized—shutting Mrs. Cairo up!

The next morning, Cairo the accountant arrived at Empire Nights on time. She was hired by Olsen from a well-known accounting firm in Goldport City.

In fact, Olsen, including the Mayor, all had their own dedicated accountants. These accountants were very proficient in their business, but they didn't work outside because they knew too many secrets and couldn't be casually thrown into a nightclub to work.

Mrs. Cairo didn't have any particular fondness or dislike for this job. It was just a job. She did things according to the employer's requirements, nothing more.

When she came today, she found that the door to the third floor, which had been empty, was closed again and seemed to have been cleaned.

She didn't have any intention of investigating because this was Lance's job.

Whatever he wanted to do, as long as he wanted a budget, he would eventually have to submit the plan to her.

Mrs. Cairo didn't attach much importance to Lance, the manager, just a member of the lower class.

She had heard of Lance's name, but she wasn't very afraid because she knew what Olsen and his law firm behind him, and the Mayor hidden deeper, represented.

If she was injured, then Lance would be hurting not only her but also a provocation and harm to Olsen and the Mayor behind him.

Moreover, the accounting firm she worked for would also stand up for her. That was a firm with connections in the Bay Area!

The reason she was so tough at work was because of this. She wasn't afraid of Lance at all!

The work was boring, but she kept at it for the sake of the decent salary.

The life of the middle class wasn't as good as people imagined. Only when there were no outsiders would they show their fatigue.

Various loans and bills at home had to be paid. Although they could afford such consumption, she still felt too tired.

She didn't see Lance all day today, but that was normal. With or without this manager, the nightclub's business wouldn't change.

At six o'clock, she packed up her things, locked some documents in the safe, and drove away.

When she returned to her home in Prussia, she was a little surprised to see a car that wasn't hers or her husband's parked at the door. Someone had come?

Maybe it was her husband's colleague. His colleagues sometimes came over to hang out.

Mrs. Cairo pushed open the door with her bag. She took off her shoes and put on slippers while asking, "Honey, is someone visiting?"

"I saw a car at the door!"

Her husband's voice quickly came from inside the house, "Yes, dear, your colleague has come to visit you…"